Disciple
by Ris'on I'inekin Tyaedairgue
Summary: AU. OOC. I was never happy to follow orders, so I'm not content with the way my life is, it is unbalanced. To have a master is bad, to have an assassin to be your master is much worse. I do not have the personality to kill, but I also do not have the choice. Not until I am able to surpass him. (Minor BL - LavixAllen. Non-explicit for once. Might be dark. Rating: T to M.)


**Some of the other characters are OC and even though there's going to appear some BL, it won't be explicit. I think. But I still didn't make up the whole story, so... I'll make it up on the way. Just like the others.**

**It might just happen that it'll be _really _really _really _OOC. Just so you know.**

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><p><strong>Disciple<br>**_Prologue_

My life is unbalanced. Nobody else I know lives the way I do. Not like I would want them to, though. I own a bookstore near a school, but to be honest, I don't even really know what is that school called, I only know it's some kind of high school and I don't really have the time to care about it. Day and night, I'm busy.

Selling: books, newspapers, bookmarks, magazines, textbooks, anything that has to do something with books. Though I an't say this bookstore is very prosperous, I'd like to say that I could live just from what I earn here. Sadly, selling stuff is not my only job, I also...

"Welcome." Seems like my regular customer has arrived. He's an interesting fellow, and seems like he's a real bookworm, considering that he stops by at least once a week and buys something. He's got a bright smile and very light-colored hair, made me think _so shiny_ whenever I see him. I assumed he was a son of a rich family, he wouldn't be able to afford so many books otherwise. I can say I was glad that there are still people like him, people who actually want to read and learn.

"Hello!" he greeted cheerfully and disappeared somewhere in the maze of shelves. I nodded my greeting with a half-hearted smile, taking a deep breath. Though I was happy that he came around every week, I couldn't afford to show it. Thankfully, because it was already getting dark, I doubted the spark in my eyes could be noticeable. Still, I bowed my head and pretended to look at the stack of magazines that I had on my desk.

He appeared, smiling happily, three big books in his hands. He looked like he's going to break under their weight, but he obviously didn't care. "This is a new series from my favorite author," he explained, though I didn't ask about it. He paused, looking at me thoughtfully. "Is something wrong, Mr. Lavi?" I returned his gaze without blinking, my only visible eye not giving off any emotions. Damn his sense of empathy. "Nothing, just tired," I answered and tilted my head to the side. This innocent-looking gesture was actually meant to hide my eye behind my hair more. I got it damaged two days ago, and I didn't want anybody to know. Especially not him. "Will that be all for today?" I asked and immediately noticed the slip of my tongue.

"For today?" he chuckled. "So you _do_ remember that I come here every week."

I shortly bit my lip before I answered. "It's hard to not notice." Ever since I got to this bookstore, I was making sure to not make any actual connections with my customers, and I was doing such a good job. And suddenly here I was, starting a conversation. Bad move, bad move. I already realised some time ago that the kids from the school call this place "Lavi's" and they call me my given name, and I don't mind. I never did. So why, when this boy does it, why does my heart hurt?

"You never seemed to care, Mr. Lavi." He smiled again as he pushed the books towards me. "Yes, that'll be all for today."

"Don't get me wrong," I shook my head carefully, being well aware that if he noticed the medical eyepatch covering my eye, hidden behind the ginger strands of my hair, he'd start to ask more questions. "I never really cared, and I still don't. I'm just glad that there are still young people who read books. Want a bag to carry that?" I answered bluntly, carrying on with my job, not wanting to drag this on much longer. Not if I had the option to make him leave.

"Yes, please." He pulled out his purse. "But you are young, too. It sounds weird when you talk that way, Mr. Lavi." He tilted his head to the side, too, and his white hair moved. Up until that evening, I've never noticed that red strange star-like tattoo he had on his face. Must have hurt. I didn't know about it because he always came in the evening, probably whin his school duties were over, and it was dark in the store.

I only regretted that I'll never see it with both of my eyes.

"Have a nice evening," I said as usual and watched him leave. Usually, he was the last customer of the day, so I didn't expect anybody to come. That's why my head shot up in surprise when the door opened once more. There was a tall figure standing, a dark silhouette that I've never seen before, and yet, I knew who it was. The man stepped towards me and I looked away when he appeared in the light, knowing that I shan't see him and that I'll never meet him again. Something clattered on my desk and I heard a low, raspy whisper: "Message delivered."

After I counted to ten, I looked up.

The store was completely empty, and there was a sealed box in front of me. I felt cold sweat break all over my skin and my hands were shaking when I reached under the desk for gloves with metal fingertips. Before I dared to touch the box, I had to wear something to protect myself.

I broke the seal and opened the packet. Something snapped silently and when I looked carefully, I saw a small needle shattered into pieces, and I knew that if I touched just one of them, I might die. _He_ was always this cliché and _he_ always prepared this type of traps, wanting to know if I get caught in one of them. _He_'s tried gas, poison, tiny arrows, _he_ even tried to poison the paper. The only thing I've never seen _him_ using against me were explosives.

There was a letter inside. As previously mentioned, I had experience with _him _poisoning the paper using a trans-dermal substance, so I didn't touch it directly. Last time I was saved only because the smell of it was the most horrible thing I've ever experienced - it started dissolving and the poison turned into a smell bomb.

_"You are to execute Cross Marian this time. Failure is unacceptable.  
>~Me<br>P. S. I am very displeased you got yourself damaged.  
>If your injury causes any malfunction, your head will<br>be the first thing I'll see on my table the next morning."_

"As stingy as ever. I'm not a machine," I muttered under my breath as I frowned at the letter. Then I turned to the fireplace behind me and threw the paper and the box quickly inside. The moment I realised something and quickly jumped over the desk, crouching behind it just when I heard a loud bang.

I _knew _he was going to use explosives one day.

Turning around, I threw the gloves over my shoulder and went to lock the shop. There was going to be another long night. Preparations had to be done.


End file.
